'You will be all right now, Audrey,' he said, with a poor attempt at cheerfulness. 'I have tipped the guard half-a-crown—a piece of extravagance on my part, I believe, as you only stop once between this and King's Cross, and Michael will meet you at the other end. God bless you, my child!' he continued, with deeper feeling, as the train began to move. 'Give my love to Cyril, and try and trust him to his Heavenly Father.'
'I will try, dear father,' was Audrey's answer.
And then she leant back on her seat and attempted to pray; but she only found herself repeating over and over again the same petition—that she might be in time; for Michael's message, so carefully worded, had read to her like Cyril's death-warrant. 'He will die,' she had said with tearless eyes to her father, as she had carried him the telegram.
It was eleven o'clock before she reached King's Cross; but before the train stopped she could see Michael standing alone under a gas-lamp, and before he discerned her she was beside him.
'Am I in time, Michael?'
Then he started, and drew her hand through his arm.
'Quite in time, dear; he has still a few hours to live.'
For he saw at once that she was prepared for the worst.
'That is well,' she replied calmly; 'let us go.'
And then Michael handed her into the hansom.